Reshaping Destiny
by Xeal II
Summary: If Cloud had been just minutely stronger, if he had been able to resist Sephiroth's control even for a moment, could he have saved Aerith? This story is a what-if concept based on the possibility that Cloud could have protected her... at terrible cost.
1. Chapter 1

_Reshaping Destiny_

Notes: The story you are about to read is a what if concept, a complete re-write of the game following that most infamous of scenes in FF7. In this story, Cloud is just a little bit stronger mentally, and is able to better resist Sephiroth's control... the results from this are staggering. The story is actually a two-part series. I am collaborating with Alantie Mistaniu for this series, and will be providing a link to her story when she posts it. Please note that this story is a work-in-progress, and this is but the first chapter of many.

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Silence. Shimmering light flowed everywhere in the ancient cavern, filling it with the shadows of a world long forgotten. Aerith felt so peaceful here, so calm, as if this place was where she belonged, forever. The last Cetra's head was bowed in deep introspection, feeling the warmth of the planet here, even in this frozen place, haunted by the ghosts of ancient times. Voices echoed in her awareness, a cacophony of desperate wailing souls each striving for her attention. Give my husband a message, one screamed; tell my daughter I love her said another; tell her that I will always miss her... always these voices came here, in this Holy place, the remnants of endless, scattered souls still tied to this world, unable to merge with the ever-present Lifestream.

Deeper. Aerith's mind dove deeper into the life-energy coursing through her mind, even as she remember coming here, deeper into the bowels of this most scared place, the last testament to a greater place, a better time. The symphony of voices faded into the background, vanishing from her mind even as she strove to soothe them, to comfort them. Aerith wished she could speak to all of them to deliver their final wishes that they might rest, that they might be reborn again, freed of their endless torment. Yet there was no time; the very existence of everything, the very lifeblood of the planet itself was in mortal danger. Darkness was near too, she could feel that evil presence lurking in the shadows, searching for her, tracking her movements as if the very hounds of Hell obeyed his every whim. She could not hide from him much longer, she could not shield herself from the inevitable fate which had gripped her.

Prayer. Energy coursed around her and within her, whispers from the Lifestream itself finding her awareness, guiding her mind, providing the key to unlock the great power within the shimmering sphere tied lovingly in her bow. The Last Cetra lay prostrate now, her mind submitting to the will and knowledge of the planet as she felt herself being lifted to a higher state of being. Euphoria overcame her in that moment, a feeling of complete bliss as she felt herself floating in her mind's eye as her thoughts merged with the omni-present life-energy. Holy would come... Holy would cleanse this place of the darkness, the approaching evil from the depths of time and space.

Sadness. Aerith knew the sins of her human half, she knew of the sins of humanity which had plagued the planet for millennia. Would Holy cleanse them too? Or would Holy give humankind a chance to redeem themselves, to return to the innocent people they once were long ago? She thought of Cloud in that moment, the tormented man she had felt herself drawn to with such magnetism; she thought of the shy, boyish innocence behind his nervous smiles which he reserved only for her. Cloud... the thought of the tortured soul who still remained pure, somewhere deep within his battered heart, gave Aerith hope that perhaps Holy would find something worthwhile, something worth preserving. Cloud... he was on his way here even now; she could always sense when he was near, she could feel the warmth of his soul, made so much stronger within this holy place. It seemed so long since their journey began; Aerith felt as if she had known the spiky blonde forever, that she had always been meant for him and him alone. As if finally coming to terms with her own heart she felt the rush of emotion surge into her consciousness as she realized she had fallen for him so completely. Somehow, she knew he felt the same, and as the love poured from her heart, the planet replied with it's own answer, as if she had passed the final test.

Life. It flowed through her veins as the planet responded, granting her desire, unlocking the power of Holy, lending her its limitless strength. Somewhere deep within, her mind registered the darkness closing in, looming over her with crushing malevolence. Aerith had to hurry; her mind surged with energy as she poured her will into the materia, calling upon the power of her ancient race. Cloud... A flash of blonde hair broke her concentration as she looked up at him and smiled happily, feeling a wave of euphoria overcome her in that moment...

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KILL!

It was a command that could not be ignored, that could not be defied. The voice echoed in his mind, clamoring for attention, demanding that it be obeyed. Cloud tried to resist it, tried to bury the errant voice, but it only echoed with more force.

KILL HER! NOW!

Cloud lifted his sword above Aerith's form, his entire body quaking with terror and confusion. Screams tortured his mind, disrupting his stream of thought as confusion set in. Aerith... It was the last word which remained to his scattered mind, the only anchor which he could hold on to, and he grasped at it desperately in his mind.

KILL HER! KILL HER! DEATH! MURDER!

A deranged howl ripped from Cloud's throat then and he cast the sword downward with incredible force, his motions a blur as the others stared from below, wide-eyed with shock. Crack. With enough force to bend the tip of the old Buster Sword, it lanced into the stony surface next to Aerith's form, passing so close that it cut through a few errant hairs, depositing them onto the ground as the great weapon lodged itself into the stone.

"NO!" Cloud screamed forcefully. Vanishing into the darkness of his mind, the dark voice fell away from his mind, defeated.

As if she had neither heard nor seen the terrible sin he had committed, Aerith looked up and smiled at him. Calm descended over him in that moment, as his eyes met hers and lost themselves in her piercing emerald gaze. When had he fallen for her? Cloud could not answer the question, it had snuck upon him so gradually that he never realized it was happening. For the first time he did not look away from her, he did not hide his face in embarrassment, he just gazed into her eyes with longing, with boundless love. He wanted to embrace her and forget all the things which had happened to them, forget the terrible voice and its terrible purpose. He wanted to feel his lips touch hers, he desired her with such intensity as he had never known before.

In his reverie, he almost missed the sounds above, the fluttering of cloth in the wind, the shattering of something glassy and frozen far above. Adrenaline surged within Cloud as he ripped the gargantuan sword from the stone and whirled about Aerith's prostrate form, holding the blade before him with all the strength he could summon from within. Sephiroth. There was no doubt in Cloud's mind as he eyed the silver-haired monstrosity falling from far above, his masamune held out before him in a deadly plunge.

Metal groaned in protest as the masamune impacted Cloud's old Buster. Sparks flew everywhere as the hardened blades screeched against each other, the horrendous sound echoing everywhere in the shimmering chamber. Sephiroth smiled with cruel sadism as the man drew his blade along the length of the Buster, tearing it loose and flinging the impossibly long weapon into the blonde's chest. Blood sprayed from the wound as Cloud's anguished cry tore from his throat. With desperate strength, he flung his battered body along the length of the masamune, pain tearing at his insides as the tip tore loose from his form.

Sephiroth's smile twisted along his malevolent features, an echo of an expression worn long ago as he watched Nibelheim burn. Cloud fell to one knee as Aerith ran to him, tearing loose a cure materia as she screamed with sudden terror for him. The dark man twisted the masamune around again, bringing it to bear as Cloud pushed Aerith away, pulling himself up on the hilt of his sword with desperate strength.

"Go! Now!" Cloud yelled desperately. Behind him Vincent and Cid were sprinting up the broken columns and fragmented stairs, weapons held before them as threw themselves at Sephiroth with reckless enthusiasm. Ignoring Cloud's words, Aerith stood defiantly behind Cloud, building up a great wave of healing magic even as hot tears began to trace down her cheeks. The Dark Man merely lifted a single gloved hand and cast all of them aside with practiced ease, laughing as their bodies cracked against stone. Sephiroth simply stared into Cloud's eyes with an intense, icy gaze as he leaped into the air, vanishing into the world above, his words echoing behind him in the ancient chamber.

"Heheh. We will be meeting again very soon, puppet."

As if to punctuate his words, a grotesque creature fell from above, it's deep, crimson form covered in sickening gore and pulsating veins. Spawn of Jenova's headless form, a piece of the creature's undying form, Cloud thought as dizziness came over him, his body beginning to shutdown as blood dripped from his soaked soldier uniform. The blonde fell to one knee as the creature lunged for the others' unconscious forms, a sickening, unnatural light forming around its body, building up to a crescendo of roiling lethal energy.

Aerith. Darkness began to close on his vision, but the name echoed in his mind as he looked upon her unconscious form laying against the stone, so helpless, so vulnerable. He wanted to spend forever with her here, yet fate had dictated a different outcome for him, and he did not regret it. A smile worked its way across his features as the pain faded away, the nerves of his mangled form no longer connecting with his mind. Coldness began to seep into his bones, a slow-moving darkness that threatened to take him away from her forever. Cloud had few regrets; he remembered falling through the roof of Aerith's church and staring up into that angelic face, those wise and kindly eyes, framed with beautiful hair the color of deep, rich Earth. Only one wish remained to him then, the wish that he could have told her everything, that he could have let go of his impenetrable shell and spoken those three words which had echoed in his dreams for so long now.

Sparks flew as Cloud threw himself to his feet, dragging his sword along the stone with the final, desperate strength of a dying man. He was a blur of motion, his sword whirling about him in perfect harmony, cutting deep into flesh, flinging gore and blood all around him in a perfectly choreographed dance of death. Everything was smooth as time almost seemed to slow down for him as his blade became merely an extension of his arm, his body, his will. Omnislash. Cloud did not know the technique, nor did he expect to ever have the chance to use it again, but it did not matter. It was as if his body and mind had suddenly resonated with perfect harmony and understanding; he felt the energy within him, he knew where to deliver it to cause the most damage. The technique connected deep within his very soul as if it were defining moment of his life.

Jenova's bloodied form fell to the ground, dead before it touched the stone. Steaming flesh lay about the frozen ruins, cooling rapidly in the chilly world beneath the ancient, forgotten city. Rage, which had kept Cloud's shattered body clinging to life, dissipated in his mind as he fell to his knees, his mighty sword slipping from his grip. As if in a dream, it bounced lightly on the stone surface before settling to rest, the sound seemingly stretching out forever, so loud and intense. The glow in his eyes faded as he pitched forward, unable to summon the strength to hold himself up any longer. Cloud felt no pain as he struck the ancient, worn stone of this holy place. As his body lay there, blood pooling underneath him, his fading blue eyes found Aerith's prone form and he felt a pang of intense fear for her. Nothing else mattered but her, there was nothing left to his life but the woman before him.

Darkness crept along the edge of his vision, narrowing to a single speck, a single window from which he could still view the world of the living. Aerith... was she okay? Had Sephiroth killed her? Pain was meaningless, death was inconsequential; all that mattered to the hardened warrior was Aerith. Cloud tried to move his hand toward her, reaching for her, wanting nothing more than to touch her and assure himself that she would live. Aerith's eyes fluttered open, as if dazed from the mightly blow the dark warrior had given her, and Cloud smiled, feeling complete at last. If only he could still speak, he would tell the beautiful, kindly woman of his love for her, of his devotion. But such was not to be. Quivering with fading life, his hand reached out for hers one final time, and as her eyes widened in sudden shock, Cloud felt nothing. Breathe condensed in the frigid air one last time, a singular exhale of rapidly-cooling air which swirled upward as it faded away. A final thought remained to him in the blackness, and it cut through his dimming awareness with perfect clarity. _I was her bodyguard... She was my angel... and I was always meant for this moment. _Silence.

Aerith awoke slowly, her eyelids fluttering, her skull pounding as if it had been trampled by a massive beast. A blurry shape lay in front of her, indistinct and wavering, and she struggled to focus through the relentless pain. The figure suddenly shifted into focus, and the Cetra screamed a soundless scream, her voice catching in her throat. Cloud lay before her, surrounded by the crimson flow of blood; he was reaching for her, and in that single moment between life and death, Aerith saw into his soul. Life faded from his eyes and his hand opened up to her as if he were struggling to hold on to her, to reach her. Knowing the planet as she did, feeling the Lifestream within the depths of her soul, Aerith knew he was gone. She felt his spirit pulling away from her, vanishing into the swirling lifeforce of the planet as a strange contentment came over the wayward soul. Her mind reached desperately for him, crying out for him to return to her, crying out with sudden loss. The Cetra could not hear her own voice sobbing, she could not feel the tears dripping down her face, splashing onto the blood-stained stone below. Irrational thoughts echoed in her mind and she reached desperately for a restore materia. Even as the others woke behind her, she kept casting the spell time after time, hoping that she could breathe life back into his still form. But it was no use, Cloud's soul had left behind this empty shell, leaving her alone once again.

For all of her life she had felt alone, even though the very lifeblood of the planet spoke to her and through her. She had never been normal, she had never been able to simply laugh and play with the other children. Even as she grew older and wiser, true companionship had always been lacking from her life. Even with her naturally cheery and upbeat nature it had been difficult to live as the last of her kind, the sole remaining Ancient in a civilization that had long forgotten them. The only constants were the ever-present threat of Shinra's evil, the Turks relentless pursuit, and Hojo's deep-seated insanity. The only soul to guide her here had been her adopted mother, that beautiful and simple soul who had asked nothing from Aerith but her love. Into this world Cloud had fallen, crashing into her life, and never leaving her side since. Somehow Cloud understood her, somehow he knew what it was like to live alone, the last survivor of a doomed way of life. Perhaps the others had thought of him as cold-hearted mercenary, a man without the slightest hint of a heart, but Aerith knew better. She saw the loving look in his eyes, the nervous smiles and flushed cheeks. The man said so little with his words, but said so much more with his heart...

The thought of Cloud's nervous, cautious smile brought a thin smile of her own to her teary face as she knelt down and cradled Cloud's head in her lap, oblivious to the pool of blood staining her dress. Tortured gasps for air came from her throat as she held him, gently rocking back and forth as she wallowed in misery. Always the Cetra had kept her spirits up, filling everyone around her with optimism; sometimes it was all the group had to bind them together. Even as Sephiroth had taken the Black Materia, and it seemed as if all had been lost, she kept her smile, she kept her faith that everything would be... alright in the end. Nothing could stop the tidal wave of despair in her mind this time; nothing could halt the relentless advance of guilt that tore into her soul. The flood of emotion was like a dam bursting in her conciousness; it swept away all in its path, washing away her innocence and cracking her fragile heart.


	2. Chapter 2

For one final occasion, the gargantuan sword was lifted in the air, twirled about as if possessed by the lifeforce of its owner, and flung into the ancient, hallowed ground with intense, limitless rage. Dust floated up as the lifeless metal lay quivering in the soil, swaying slightly as the energy ebbed from its stained, scratched surface, worn from years of merciless death and endless battle. Drained of its life, empty of its meaning, the battered weapon lay near the shore of a great shimmering lake, standing guard over the abandoned remnants of a forgotten time. As if burdened with the weight of great sorrow, a single, pale-skinned hand lightly brushed the surface of the blood-stained hilt, caressing it gently, feeling the worn grip.

Sobs wracked her throat in great heaving gasps as she tore a tiny piece of her blood-stained pink dress, kissing the worn fabric softly before tying it to the hilt of the mighty blade. Aerith's tears were an unstoppable torrent of sorrow now, drip-dripping onto the frozen soil and stone beneath her, carrying the echoing metronome of death across the forgotten, hallowed place. None dared to speak in this most sacred of moments, leaving only the tiny wavelets carrying across the lake, lapping gently against the frigid shore, as the only other source of sound, the only other indication that life carried on.

With surprisingly gentle care for such a massive being, Barret lay the cooling, lifeless body of the spiky-haired warrior upon the shore, turning away as if to hide his own sadness and shame. Only the single drip that followed, echoing through the frigid air, gave testament to the burly man's innermost thoughts. Aerith knelt before Cloud's still form, stroking his cheek gently with loving care, as if afraid to hurt him.

"Who... will help me.. carry him." Aerith's voice cracked, breaking the spell of silence which had fallen upon them. Without a word, without even the slightest nod, Tifa fell to her knees beside the body, her tears rolling down her cheek, dripping onto the fallen warrior. Her strong hands curled underneath him, lending the flower girl immense strength, as together they lifted the lifeless form, carrying him into the frigid waters. As the shore fell away, and Cloud's body gently floated on the surface, the water supporting most of his weight, Tifa stopped herself. Her choked sobs came from deep within as her worn, hardened hand gripped his, squeezing it tightly as if she could never let go. Then she turned away as her tears dried on her face, trudging back to the shore without looking back, unable to bear the sight before her any longer. As if seized by sudden undeniable impulse, as if her own mind had lost any semblance of self-control, Aerith's body jerked forward violently. Almost without her realizing it she found her lips pressed against Cloud's in a first, and final, kiss. Frozen water lapped around her, even as her lips brushed lovingly against his, feeling the fading warmth within them. Before she allowed herself to fall into that limitless expanse with him, that cold, lifeless abyss, she turned away, unable to watch him disappear from her life forever.

"Cloud.. ya lucky &#)!. Ya' got two women giving ya a send off." Cid whispered. Perhaps if the words had come from any other, they might have been thought cruel and heartless. But from the vulgar pilot, the words represented a deep, solemn respect, and no one admonished him for them. No other words were spoken as the group silently left the sacred place, leaving their comrade behind in eternal slumber; leaving him to watch over the place which had long ago been at the very heart of the world. A part of Aerith fell with him in that lonely place; the tattered remains of her lost innocence; the shattered ruins of her broken heart.

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"Now what do we do? Sit around on our #(!! asses? Hell with that, I want that piece of #&!# dead." As usual Cid's vulgar tongue cut through the icy haze which had gripped everyone, echoing across the ruined city beyond the shell-house. Tifa lay dejected behind him, stirring occasionally, her red-rimmed eyes haunting and dreary as she moaned softly. Across from her Barret simply stood motionless, like a gargantuan statue, permanently fixed in place with that look of unbelieving shock etched on his features.

"Spike... we're gonna make Sephiroth pay. We're gonna make the Shinra pay. They all gonna pay." Barrets fist suddenly lashed out against the wall, crashing against the worn surface with sudden, intense anger. Then he was as stone again, unmoving, silent and watchful, his eyes flicking towards Aerith's motionless form with the slightest tinge of worry. For her part, Aerith said nothing, her silence saying more than Cid with his curses or Barret with his fist. Her legs dangled from the edge of the bed-frame as she rocked gently back and forth, her eyes cast to the floor, emptied of their tears.

The eerie silence threatened to fall over them again, draining their hope and leaving them in misery. Nanaki fidgeted uncomfortably on the floor, his usual wisdom silent, the constant flick-flicking of his tail having long since ceased. Surprisingly it was Vincent who broke the shared reverie, his quiet, methodical voice almost a whisper.

"Cloud wouldn't want this. We must go." The whisper carried loudly in the dimly-lit room, the soft words like the fearful screams of creatures in the night.

"I don't care anymore. He's gone. Cloud's gone, don't you get it?" Tifa's voice hovered on that thin precepice overlooking insanity, her desperate screams carrying her sorrow.

"Tifa..." Barret began, his voice oddly soft and caring, emotion creeping into the edge of his voice.

"Don't you talk to me. Don't any of you talk to me. You just let him die!" Tifa's eyes flicked across the room angrily, coming to rest as they focused on Aerith, still rocking softly back and forth, seemingly unaware of angry tirade. Barret's fist quivered for a moment, as if searching for some opponent to strike, some angry creature to vanquish; but none was forthcoming.

"Enough of this !" Cid's voice cut through the angry haze, all eyes snapping to him, all except for Aerith's. Her body turned without the slightest hint of sound, without the slightest hint of acknowledgment. Soon she was pulling up a blanket, covering herself as her body shivered from the biting cold. Silence hovered again as the others watched her in astonishment, not knowing what to do or say to the silent woman, still clad in her blood-stained pink dress.

"Let her alone. We should go outside." Vincent whispered, his voice solemn and stern. Nodding in agreement, Cid trudged outside, expelling a cigarette butt from his mouth with a quick puff of air. The pilot tore through his pockets for another light, almost frantic in his need, until his hands came to rest comfortingly on the small pack. Selecting one of the few remaining cigarettes, he popped open his lighter with practiced ease, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag, inhaling as his eyes closed peacefully. Outside the shell-house, the stars shone brightly, shimmering down upon them, standing watch over the ancient, forgotten city.

"We need to sort this out." Vincent began as the others watched him intently.

"Sort out what? Stop talking in #! riddles." Cid replied between puffs.

"Who is going to lead us onward." Came the simply reply. A soft breeze carried through the city in that moment, a thin wail of sound echoing across the ruined land.

"Yeah. Who's gonna do it, huh?" Yuffie added, speaking up for the first time. Though she still bounced around with apparent enthusiasm, it seemed as if she had been drained somehow, as if her boundless energy had simply whittled away.

"It should be decided by council, by vote." Nanaki added solemnly, his voice a dark, deep whisper.

"Well I think Cid should do it." Yuffie responded almost before Nanaki was finished speaking, her youthful voice echoing loudly into the cityscape beyond. Cid merely rolled his eyes in response, taking a long drag and expelling a cloud of noxious smoke with apparent indifference.

"Hell with that idea." Came his responsed, laced with dark cynicism.

"What about you, Barret?" Tifa offered, wiping a tear from her cheek, her hollow eyes staring about wildly, as if possessed by some dark spirit.

"Done with that. Don' want that anymore, ya know? We did some things... well no, I'm not doin' it." Barret finished decisively, closing the verdict on that particular train of thought as his fist lashed out against the exterior of the ancient structure. Cait Sith strode out in that moment, the toy body leaning against the structure as its unwieldy arm pointed at Vincent.

"What about you?" The toy began in its bizarre accent. Vincent merely shook his head and lay back, gazing at the stars for a moment as if questioning them for an answer.

"It should be Cid." He began. "The rest of us... are too broken for this." When no objections followed, Nanaki nodded his head as if delivering the final pronouncement. Behind them, Cid lay against the ruins, smoke wafting from the crushed rock and shell underneath him where the remnants of a cigarette had lodged itself. Soft, gutteral snores began to emanate from the man as he dozed off, oblivious...

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Even here, in this dreamworld, in this extension of reality, Aerith could smell the scent of death about her. She felt the vileness of it all over her, covering her, weighing her down like a great anchor pulling her into that frozen abyss. Staring upward, she felt her body fall into the depths, dragged down by that great burden, pulled ever further into the limitless expanse. Screams tore at her throat, but her body could not, would not respond to her. She knew she was dead, leaving the mortal world behind as she stared up as the shimmering light, not with eyes but with spirit. Above her shapes wavered, as if they were reflections from another place and time, somehow torn from her.

_This is what it must feel like to die. This is what I have done to him._

Light faded from her world as she drifted deeper into the frigid waters, the last remnants of the mortal world fading from her thoughts as her form continued its endless plunge. Memories flowed from her awareness, images and feelings of another time; faded remnants of the past. Cloud smiled at her nervously, his cheeks flushed in deep scarlet as he turned away. Terrifying pain followed the errant memory, clawing at her soul as the deep blue waters faded to black nothingness. Unbidden, more memories clambered to the surface of her mind; they were riding together across the night sky, punctuated by bursts of wondrous color; they were laughing together atop the remains of her old childhood playground. Now he was reaching for her one final time, his hand opening towards her, as if somewhere in the depths of his soul he was holding her close to him, as if he all he wanted was to touch her face, to assure himself that she would live, that she would continue on. Aerith's eyes met his even as the last hints of life faded away, even as the last remnants of Cloud vanished from his body; in that final moment she knew him as no other ever could, nothing was hidden from her. The old shell Cloud had built up around himself, that emotionless act he presented to the world, was no more. In that single moment between life and death, Aerith saw the Love in his eyes, and could not deny the Love in her own heart. She continued to fall into the omnipresent darkness around her, the anchor of intense guilt pulling her down deeper into the wallowing abyss of her nightmare, forever torn away from the light.


End file.
